THE ODD EAR-RING.
Jane Kelly had proceeded but a few paces from the outer door, when
Madame reached the pavement. Very few persons were in the street at that
time of the evening; for, though not very late, the building was deep in
the commercial heart of the city, and few persons ever spent the night
there.
“Oh, there he is.”
As the old woman uttered these words, she darted across the street and
seized a policeman by the arm.
“Burglary—burglary! I have been robbed. The thief has been trying at my
door again; I have tracked her now, There the woman goes; seize her!
seize her! she has robbed me of a diamond ear-ring; I swear it, I am
ready to testify; here is the mate; seize her, or she will be off.”
As she spoke, the old woman drew the ear-ring from her bosom and held it
up in the light of a street-lamp. The man gave one glance at the
sparkling stones, and darted after Jane Kelly, who was gliding off like
a shadow in the distance.
Madame put up her jewel, and followed the policeman, chuckling softly to
herself.
“Is this the person?” said the policeman, leading Jane Kelly back, with
a strong grasp on her arm. “Have I caught the right bird?”
“That is the woman,” replied the old De Marke, peering into Jane’s face,
“I should know her among a thousand. I caught her in my room, not ten
minutes ago, robbing my money-box; picked the door-lock when I was out
buying groceries; had this very ear-ring in her hand; you’ll find the
box open on the floor, just as she left it. I trod softly, light as a
feather, darted in upon her, snatched this from her hand—she ran—I after
her, and here she is!”
Jane Kelly stood before her accuser as she uttered these charges, dumb
with astonishment, and pale with dismay. She looked from the policeman
to the old woman and back again with a wild stare.
“What is the witch at now?” she said, at last, in a frightened voice,
wincing under the grasp fixed on her arm. “Let me go, I haven’t done
nothing; I’m a hired nurse at Bellevue Hospital—a paid nurse, do you
understand?”
“Is she?” inquired the man, turning to Madame de Marke.
“Don’t know anything about her, sir; saw her hanging about my building
about ten days ago, first and last time I ever saw her till now. That
night I walked in the streets from twelve o’clock at night till three in
the morning, the priest made me do it as a penance; when I got home, the
mate to this was gone from my money-box; to-night she came after another
haul!”
Jane Kelly turned upon her fierce and pale. “Woman, you lie!” broke from
lips that trembled so with fear and passion that the words came almost
in a whisper.
“Of course I do; no one ever told the truth about a thief; of course
it’s all a story, perhaps the magistrate’ll think so.”
“You do not mean to have me really taken up?”
“Of course not; you’ve committed burglary on my premises, robbed me of
diamonds worth five hundred dollars, and tried to do it again; but of
course I a’n’t going to take you up, dear. Perhaps I’m tender-hearted,
perhaps I love you too much, perhaps you’ll be marched off to the police
office without another minute’s time for abusing me! Mr. Policeman, just
move on, I am ready. It isn’t too late yet, and I want to get home
again!”
“I won’t go—I charge that woman with murder, perjury, false
imprisonment. She’s an imp, a wretch, a wild beast, I tell you; take
_her_ up, I charge her with something worse than stealing.”
Jane struggled fiercely as she hurled these words back upon her accuser,
and almost wrenched her arm from the policeman.
“Hush, be quiet, I say!” commanded the man, sternly, “I’ll have no more
of this; come along, marm, we’ve held court long enough in the street.
If we wait in this way, the magistrate will be gone.”
“Oh, I’m ready, I’m in a hurry to go,” said Madame, with her glittering
eyes turned on Kelly; “it isn’t me that delays you; walk on, I’ll follow
with all the pleasure in the world; perhaps she’s got the mate to this
about her!”
“No such thing,” exclaimed Jane, with another burst of passion, “you
know well enough that I told you it was in my trunk.”
“Oh!” ejaculated the officer, with a wink at the old woman, who gave
back a significant nod, and cast another jeering glance at her victim.
“Did you tell me that? thank you, dear, it’s pleasant to find a person
so frank. You hear, sir, she confesses. Kind, isn’t it?”
Jane was about to speak, and probably in her wrath might have committed
herself still further, but the policeman dragged her forward. She made a
little resistance at first, but at last moved on more patiently, though
still burning with indignation, which was likely to break forth to her
disadvantage the moment she was allowed to speak again.
Madame De Marke seemed to be aware of this, for though she appeared to
follow the officer and his charge, every few minutes she would glide up
to the side of her victim, and whisper some taunt or jeer that stung the
woman’s wrath into fresh vigor, and in this state she was placed before
the magistrate.
The moment she entered the police-office, Madame De Marke changed her
whole manner; the glitter of her eyes was subdued, her demeanor became
quiet, and notwithstanding her mean garments and general untidiness,
there was something about her which bespoke a knowledge of good society
and its usages. Besides, her face bore evidence of a keen intellect, the
more remarkable from the squalid poverty of her appearance.
She advanced before the judge, and made her charge in a clear, truthful
manner, that left no room for doubt, though the magistrate seemed a good
deal astonished by the value of the property stolen; and when Madame,
with her usual boast, spoke of rolling in gold, an incredulous smile
stole across his lips.
Madame De Marke saw the smile, and a little of her natural shrewishness
broke forth.
“You don’t believe me; you think, perhaps, I stole the things first
myself,” she said, sharply.
“No, I do not trouble myself to think of anything that has not taken the
form of evidence,” said the judge, smiling with an expression that
Madame liked still less than the first; “to-morrow we will look into the
case, if you appear against the woman.”
“But you will lock her up—you will not allow her to go home?” cried the
old woman, eagerly; “she will hide my diamonds away, and I shall never
see them again!”
The magistrate waved his hand, as if to silence further speech, and
writing on a slip of paper, handed it to the officer.
“Come,” said the officer, touching Jane.
The woman turned sharply upon him.
“Where are you taking me?”
“Into another wing of the Tombs: don’t make a disturbance now, but come
peaceably.”
“Not unless this old Jezebel goes with me,” cried the woman, furiously.
“I tell you, she is ten thousand times worse than a thief; she wanted me
to commit murder—to let one of the sweetest creatures that ever lived
starve on her sick-bed; she tried to bribe me with that very ear-ring. I
tell you, gentlemen, she is more of a murderer than I am a thief ten
times over!”
She was interrupted by a laugh, low and quiet, but which shook Madame’s
meagre form from head to foot.
“Pleasant charges, very,” she observed, addressing the magistrate;
“perhaps I stole my own jewels.”
“I shouldn’t wonder,” murmured the judge, scarcely above his breath, but
Madame heard it.
“Yes,” she added, “and perhaps I engraved my own name on the back.”
She held out the ear-ring, and the judge saw G. De Marke engraved on the
antique setting. He had heard the name, and now gazed with great
curiosity on its owner, for with all her apparent poverty he knew her to
be one of the wealthiest women in New York. He handed back the ear-ring
with a bow, and waving his hand, ordered the prisoner to be removed.